The candle flickered in the darkness, shadows climbing down the physical world like water. The quill ran across the blood stained page, the writer grieving over his torture. He pondered his thoughts, cold tired eyes; brim to exhaustion. He had been restless for so long, so long. Day and night meant nothing to him now, no dawn, no dusk and no time, just himself with his troubles. He continued writing, blood trickling down his fingers onto the quill. Writing More blood than ink now. He glared at his small barred off window, reminding him that he was locked in, imprisoned; with his anguish.
Outside, his home, his family. The once graceful city of Blackburn. But, now just a former shadow of itself; its tall inspiring human architectural constructs collapsing into nothing, burning embers fade into the night. Its people, overruled by dissonance, war and famine. The writer cringed at the thought at what his home had turned to. Mind caught in discrepancy, he wrote. His pale white hand shivering, bleeding and body in wounds, he continued to write, ancient pen still quivering across the torn frail paper.


"The war has ended, but not in a way I had hoped for. Instead of triumph, my home and my world rolls in its own blood. Now I lick my wounds, looking for comfort. There is nothing and no-one to to tell me all will be well, but that be dishonest and far from the truth. A part of me wishes that this conflict never arose, another shows that it was indeed our fault, our cause; Our greed… We expected too much from others, forcing them to give up and share anything that we saw fit to fill the void in our hearts. We thought regardless, who we hurt when we took from those who fought? We did not care, we did not omit from our desire. Now our kind has had its heart filled with life's last souvenir. Death. We face extinction, calling for help, but we heed no answer. We have lost faith in our allies trust. I do not blame them, who would want to trust a treacherous and covetous species such as myself. I am now growing tired, restless; I wish to sleep, sleep. Although I know of the fate that will befall my kind, I still hope, hope that one day we will learn from our past mistakes and return to this world. But, for the moment the world is better off without us. I now finish my wordings to begin my last longing, yet presumed uneasy slumber."